


In which Gavin Reed meets an even bigger asshole than he is.

by firefox49



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: But only a little, Drunk Gavin Reed, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Gavin is more bitter than snarky, Lonely Gavin Reed, Love Confessions, M/M, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Is Bad at Feelings, reed900, slightly sad but eventually happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefox49/pseuds/firefox49
Summary: Gavin Reed is testy at best, jaded at worst. He is certainly not a team player. Neither is his new partner.(Hijinks ensue).
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 28
Kudos: 145





	1. Lonely City

Gavin Reed always thought it was a big joke that people saw Detroit as bustling and full of life. It was the loneliest city he'd ever been in. Streetlights glared at him and cars honked angrily as if they thought him better off dead than crossing the street they were trying to drive on. People bustled and rushed their way through a predictable day-to-day and he could see it in their eyes when he walked to work, glassy and distant. It was pitiful. Not that his own existence was any more enviable. He saw the livelihood, when it happened. He was just never a part of it. The way friends and couples seemed to delight in nothing more than each other's presence was foreign to him. It made him angry. He knew it was irrational, but when did he stop himself from being angry, anyway?

"Reed,"

Gavin's focus was brought back to the present.

"You look like shit. We're going to go have a drink, want to come?" Gavin squinted. Hank was never this friendly. Then he caught the glimpse of pity in his eyes. Gavin sneered.

"No, I'm fine." He leaned back in his chair, barely bothering to look up. "Gotta finish some of this up before I head out." Hank looked dissatisfied but left him alone. His coworkers filed out, chirping with conversation. Hank fell into line with Connor, who was looking annoyingly perfect as always. It was the end of a long shift, and Gavin could tell you without looking that he looked like a hurricane survivor.

Gavin let the anger bubble up at the perceived insult, maybe because didn't want to face what would bubble up instead if he didn't. "Stupid old prick," he grumbled to himself when he was sure they were out of earshot, "inviting me to play like I'm a third grader sitting alone on the bench at recess." He didn't actually have any more work to do, but sitting alone in the precinct was no better or worse than sitting alone at home, so he figured he may as well enjoy the quiet for a spell. With everyone gone and half the lights turned off, something about the bullpen felt different. Eery, even. Lonely.

Gavin sighed. He stood, shut off his computer, and went home, weaving through the angry streetlights.

* * *

On the way to the precinct the next day, Gavin saw what must have been a reunion of people who hadn't seen each other in a long time. The shorter girl stepped out of a taxi and, arms and luggage akimbo, flung herself into the taller girl's arms. They looked like they were crying. Happy crying, though. Gavin looked away because he felt like he was intruding on something that wasn't meant for him. He also looked away because he felt other things he didn't want to identify.

Someone told him Fowler wanted to see him as soon as he walked in the door. "At least let me put my shit down, first," he snapped angrily, even though he knew it wasn't the intern's fault. They looked scared. He looked away. He didn't feel any better than he did before. Gavin set his bag on his desk and made a purposefully convoluted route to Fowler's office for not much of a reason at all.

Fowler was at his desk, looking tired as ever, and behind him was Connor. He had on the stupidest turtleneck Gavin had ever seen. "Connor," he said before addressing the captain, "what in God's name are you wearing?"

"I'm wearing what I normally wear, Detective Reed, why?" It was Connor's voice, but it came from behind him. Gavin turned around. There was Connor, passing the captain's open door. He turned back around. There was Connor again. No, not Connor. His jacket had a 900 on it. "Who's this?" He asked Fowler, incredulous. He gave Not Connor another once over. "And why's he in a turtleneck?"

Fowler sighed. "Close the damn door, Reed." Gavin closed the damn door. From there Fowler explained some bullshit about PR and inclusivity and representation. "... And there's no denying they can do the job like damned pros, either."

"What, have I done something wrong?" Gavin said, immediately defensive, searching for any possible infraction. "Is this tin can my replacement?"

"Calm down Reed." Fowler said. "He's your new partner."

Legend has it that remnants of the outburst in Fowler's office that day still echo through the vents of the precinct to this day.

When he finally stormed out of the office, the bullpen was silent. "Show's over, assholes." He went back to his desk and tried to work like he wasn't about to blow a fuse. Not five minutes later, that prissy, turtlenecked, job-stealing asshole was sitting there with him. Gavin could only stare with the angriest, most hostile expression he could muster. The android definitely looked like Connor at first glance, but there were minute differences. The hair was a little darker, the jawline sharper, the eyes that much colder.

"Good morning, Detective."

"Good morning, my ass," Gavin growled, trying to keep his voice down, "Listen, if you think you're going to waltz in here and take the job I've been at for fifteen years, you've got another thing coming."

"I am simply here to act as your partner, Detective Reed," he said. It sounded pleasant but not warm at all. "There will be no competition involved."

"I don't care why you're here." Gavin clacked angrily at his keyboard. "I don't need help from a piece of plastic."

"Right, because you've been doing _so_ well on your own." The android didn't even look at him now.

"Oh, so they've programmed backtalk into you things now?" Gavin raised an eyebrow, determined to get a reaction. Calling him a thing was a low blow, he knew, but it wasn't undeserved.

Before the android could reply, Fowler appeared suddenly.

"Got a case for you downtown. Android-related homicide. I've sent you the case file, get going."

Gavin pursed his lips and looked at the android, who didn't seem much happier. Hank leaned over and nudged Tina. "Isn't the honeymoon phase just so sweet?" he said. Tina giggled. Gavin scowled. Cursing, he snatched his coat off the chair and left with his back to the precinct.


	2. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and RK900 (now Nines) go to investigate the android homicide in Detroit's suburbs.

"Do you even have a name?" Gavin asked.

The car was dead silent with just the two of them in it. Gavin didn't turn on the radio, because there was no telling what an android would think of his music taste. The RK900 unit was sitting stock still and stiff as a board in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the road. In a human, he would have taken that to mean a cold shoulder, but there was no telling with this thing.

Honestly, he felt bad for not asking earlier, anyways.

"I do not." came the reply. "I was not designed for human integration, so CyberLife did not deem it necessary to give me an arbitrary title."

Gavin grunted in response. What an unsatisfying answer.

"Well, I can't just keep on calling you Not Connor." He eyed Not Connor up and down and caught a smirk tugging at the corners of the android's mouth.

"Is that really what you've been calling me?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to decide on a name that fits you." Problem was, it was hard to look him in the face without his brain saying _Connor,_ so he tried to focus on something else instead. His eye caught on his ID tag. Nine hundred. Nines. He said as much aloud.

"Nines?"

"Yeah, Nines," Gavin said, more sure of it now. "Sounds like a spy code name. It's cool."

Nines' upper lip curled, just barely. "It's actually highly impractical for spies to choose names so unique, the whole point is--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, stop talking or I'll make your name Killjoy."

There was a pause.

"Wait, you weren't designed for human integration?"

"No."

"Then what were you designed for?"

Nines shifted in his seat, and if Gavin hadn't known any better he'd have read it as discomfort. "I... was created to hunt deviants."

Gavin was suddenly very interested in the road. "Oh. Well." He thought back to his anti-android past. Present, if you squinted. If he were friendlier, he might tell Nines they weren't so different, after all.

"I don't anymore."

"Well. Yeah. That's good."

Gavin only realized he'd been having a halfway decent time when the feeling of awkwardness settled back down on his lungs. Damn. Had to go and fuck it up, he told himself.

"You missed the turn."

"Wh- oh." He'd gotten distracted. Cursing, he made a less-than-legal U-turn and rolled up the driveway of the house. "We're here."

He'd been expecting some sort of "yes, I can see that, dumbass," to his stupid remark but Nines just climbed out of the car with the sort of controlled grace you see in ballet dancers. Gavin could have sworn his lips were the slightest bit pursed.

Well, shit.

* * *

Gavin felt awkward and clunky next to Nines. It made him want to slouch further, because the only thing worse than failing to be as good as your partner was _trying_ and failing.

The scene inside was... brutal. Thick swathes of blue blood coated the walls, weird and fluorescent. Parts were scattered here and there, some with chunks of that rubbery-plastic skin still attached. The central part of the body, or what was left of it, lay awkwardly splayed out in the middle of the living room, utterly demolished. Part of him wanted to know how Nines was dealing with seeing this. He imagined he'd be pretty fucked up seeing a human body in this state. Then again, perfect Nines had yet to show an emotion, so what did it matter, anyway?

Some new guy working forensics approached him.

"You two the detectives?"

"No, we're the catering service," Gavin replied mirthlessly. He could sense Nine's head turn behind him but didn't look back to see his expression.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Well. The body was beaten pretty brutally with a blunt object, but the struggle was fairly prolonged as you can tell from how far the parts are scattered." The intern looked like he wanted to say more.

"And? There's something else you're not telling us." Gavin got unnecessarily close to him. The poor guy was definitely made for forensics, not the people-talking part of the job. He cowered back.

"Well, I'd, I'd say it was a crime of passion, but the family said--" God, forensics. The new kids always have an opinion and a half about what _really_ happened and Gavin would give them his opinion and a half of where they could shut it. So damn predictable it made him want to laugh. He didn't.

"Well, I'd say you keep your skinny ass to forensics and let the detectives do their jobs." He huffed and pushed past him.

"Detective," Nines began. Gavin stopped in his tracks. 

"What."

"The family is in this room over here." Nines had an almost malicious sparkle in his eye. Turned on his heel and walked in almost exactly the opposite direction Gavin had gone in. What a prick.

They peeked in the room before entering. "What was the android's relationship to them, again?" Gavin whispered.

"Camilla, the victim, was previously owned by the father as a nanny, but by the revolution she had formed such a strong bond with the daughter that she agreed to keep working, for pay, of course, as a live-in caretaker." When Nines' voice got soft, there was the softest underlying of static to it. It made the hairs in Gavin's ears prickle.

"Hmm." It formed a little knot in Gavin's stomach, thinking about how androids could just download case files and recite them. How soon he'd be out of a job when the public got over their qualms over android police officers. His anger leaked out in the little shove he gave Nines so he could enter the room first.

"Mr. and Mrs. Riley?" He said in his most pleasant voice (which ended up sounding just kind of neutral), extending a hand. "We're so sorry for your loss." What the fuck did he know about their loss? None of the assholes outside could understand it, either. The words tasted sour and hollow on his tongue. But the Rileys seemed to buy it, and thus began the interview.

According to Mrs. Riley, who had witnessed the attack, someone had broken into the house in the middle of the night, made enough noise to get her out of bed, and by the time she got to the living room Camilla was broken and bloodied on the floor and a dark figure was slipping out of the window.

"And this didn't wake you, Mr. Riley?" Nines asked. The coldness in his voice sounded accusatory.

"No, no," the husband said quickly, "I was away on work when it happened. I flew back in as soon as I heard."

Nines nodded without responding. Or blinking, for that matter. It hadn't occurred to Gavin that androids wouldn't need to blink.

"And Jessie?" Gavin asked, trying to sound warmer for fear of getting shut out for good.

"She woke up, but didn't leave her room," Mrs. Riley explained, putting a consoling arm around her daughter. "She was scared." Indeed, Jessie was snuffling, her tear-streaked face looking small and fragile.

"Gotcha. Last thing and we'll be out of your hair, do you know of anyone who would have held a grudge against Camilla? Wanted to hurt her?"

"No," replied Mr. Riley, eyes wide. "She was an angel, everyone who met her liked her."

If Gavin hadn't have been a detective for so long, he wouldn't have noticed Mrs. Riley's lips pucker slightly at that.

"Yeah. Okay. Thanks for your time." He stood up, giving them a smile that surely looked taut and weak, and went back out the way he came.

* * *

The damn forensics intern was right.

"Did you see her face when he talked about the vic?" Gavin said once they were out the front door. "It was the wife, I swear it."

"Based on what evidence?" Nines' face was blank but his tone was irritated. "You can't convict someone off of a facial expression."

"Maybe not," Gavin said, leading him around the side of the house, "but this is the window she claimed he went out through."

"Hmm." There was a bush directly underneath the window. Not only was each branch pristinely straight, but there were flowers clinging daintily to them. No way had anybody jumped through that window in the past six months. "You may have a point, but there's still no reason for her to have lied. There's no motive. Human memories are exceedingly faulty. You can't make a theory based off of anything but hard data."

Gavin thought for a minute before responding.

"How's that for hard data?" It took Nines a minute to zone in on what Gavin was pointing at. It was the neighbor across the street. She had a slick brown ponytail that bobbed from the top of her head and she watered her plants.

"Detective, to most humans it's much more dignified to admit you were wrong than to desperately scramble for evidence. The other officers already took the neighbors' statements and their alibis were airtight."

"She didn't have to be there, dipshit," Gavin said, pulling the creased case file out of his coat pocket. "Look."

"That is a picture of the victim."

" _Exactly_. Look at it! They're practically twins!"

"Hardly. The curve of the victim's nose was 15 degrees steeper, her cheekbones were at least 6 millimeters lowe--"

"Maybe to you, Terminator, but not to a human." Gavin whacked the paper in frustration. "She's plenty close. Dad was banging the hot neighbor. Or maybe he wasn't, but the mom thought he was. Then what does he do? He buys an android that looks just like her to live in their house full time. He probably didn't even know it would make his wife so mad, men are like that. Mom could probably justify it by seeing her as a robot, not something capable of loving or stealing her man, but then the revolution happened and she's forced to see her as a living thing, and a threat to her marriage, and snaps. Case closed."

"That's simply irrational. They don't even look similar, and even if they did, killing the nanny does not stop her husband from having an affair with the neighbor."

"If you keep on thinking that people act rationally, you're not gonna last long in this position."

Nines took a minute to ponder that. His brows barely knitted together as his LED spun yellow. Gavin stared back at him, secure in his victory. Nines had very blue eyes, he realized.

"Like I said before, Detective Reed, you don't have a shred of evidence to back that up. Even if we hauled her in right now, she'd be out in 48 hours."

Gavin turned away and huffed in irritation, watching the white breath float away in the cold air. Nines was right. He had nothing.

"Well, even if you're shit at understanding people, doesn't make you any less of a bloodhound," he mused. "Let's find us some evidence."


	3. Bloodhound

_What am I doing?_ Gavin wondered to himself as he followed Nines around the perimeter of the house. _Following an android around like some puppy dog. I don't need this asshole's help._ But he kept following anyway, knowing that his near-sighted human eyes would never compare to Nines' sensors.

"I'm going to go inside and talk to the kid," he announced after a few minutes of Nines muttering indecipherable chemical combinations to himself.

"Somehow, I'll try to manage without your assistance, Detective."

Gavin scoffed and walked away. Still a prick.

Inside, the kid (Jayden? Jill? Shit.) was still huddled in the sitting room, which was closed so she didn't have to see the crime scene. Her parents, nowhere to be found, had apparently left her some toys to placate her. They were untouched. Feeling like an idiot, he rapped his knuckles on the door frame.

"Hey, kid." Gavin hoped she wouldn't notice that he'd forgotten her name. She sniffed and looked up at him with watery eyes. "Do you think you could talk to me? I'm trying to catch the bad man who hurt... Camilla." God, he hoped that name was right. Evidently it was, because she nodded mournfully and straightened out her knees.

"Did you ever met a crazy person?"

"Huh?"

"A crazy person. My mama says lots of people are crazy."

"Oh. Sure, kid. A lot of people are."

"I think I'm a crazy person."

Gavin was anxious to know if she'd actually seen anything, but decided she wouldn't open up if he shut her down.

"Why's that, kiddo?"

"Well because. Because. Mama says crazy people see something and they think it's another thing."

Gavin is fully lost.

"And I sawed Mama. I sawed Mama hit Camilla. And I hided. But then Mama said there was a burl- blurg- burgler in our house. I think I'm a crazy person. She says I shouldn't told you but if you know about crazy people, it must be okay."

Oh. "Do you know that sometimes people lie because they're sad about what they've done?"

"Why?"

"They think that if they don't tell people, then it's like they didn't do bad things. But they did do bad things. I think you aren't crazy. I think your Mama did something bad. Do you get me?"

Slowly, she nodded. Her eyes welled up with tears. "Why did Mama do something bad?"

He paused. "I don't really know. I'm sorry."

"I don't know a lot of things too. It's okay."

"Thanks, kid." Tentatively, he held out an arm in comfort. She leaned into him and he patted her shoulder and really wasn't bothered by the tears staining his shirt. There were more important things in the world.

"Will Mama have to go away?"

"She will."

"That's not fair."

"I know it's sad, but sometimes things that are fair are sad, too."

"That's not fair, either."

"I know it's not."

He didn't know how long Nines had been standing there when he noticed him. His mouth was slightly open, as if in confusion, but he closed it as soon as Gavin looked at him.

"I've searched the perimeter, Detective. No signs of forced entry whatsoever. And we found this--" he held up a stone paperweight splattered with thirium-- "stashed under her dresser."

"I figured. Let's get this over with."

For once, Gavin didn't take much joy in catching a perp. He made sure the kid (Jessie, he finally remembered) was with her dad and out of sight when he asked her to come with him to the station. For whatever godly reason, she put up a fight, digging a sizeable scratch down the side of Gavin's face with her nails. He watched her face as she was shoved unceremoniously into the back of the squad car. There was anger there, but the kind that edged up uncomfortably next to desperation. He looked back at the house. Perfect-looking. Pristine, uniform, sterile, even. Even the people in there couldn't make it work.

"Detective Reed, it is part of my duties to attend to your injuries."

"Don't bother. I'm fine. I'm not getting any prettier."

He watched Nines debate whether to push the issue. He didn't.

"Why did you bother talking to the daughter? You knew we'd find sufficient evidence somewhere, and she was going to find out about her mother regardless."

"People shelter kids too much."

"They are fragile. They require shelter."

"Sure, they're fragile, but if you don't tell them the truth, they just make their own conclusions. That's what leads to fucked up adults."

Nines processed that. "Did people tell you the truth? As a child?"

Gavin snorted. "Thanks a lot. Quite a personal question for our fifth hour as partners, don't you think?

"You know about my past. As I believe it is said, quid pro quo."

He sighed and looked at where the squad car had disappeared around a corner. "No. No, they didn't."

"I am sorry, Detective Reed."

"Thanks, tin can."

"Androids are not made of aluminum or tin, rather an alloy including--"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure." Gavin waved him off but there was no malice to it. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

After that first case, Gavin and Nines kept working together in a healthy love-hate fluctuation.

"You _idiot!_ We could have followed him to whoever he was buying from!"

"That is strictly against protocol, Detective Reed. Our objective was to catch this particular red ice dealer. Not his superiors."

"Nobody cares about this asshole! We could have made the bust of a lifetime and you ruined it!"

"I can see why they assigned me to you, given your flippant disregard of the rules. Or did you just never bother to read them?"

"You self-righteous--"

Gavin bruised a knuckle or two forgetting that punching Nines in the face was equivalent to punching the side of a school bus, but every time they managed to find a way to reconcile because damn if they didn't make a good team. The mutual annoyance was worth the results. All it took was the occasional olive branch from Nines (he would hold out a cup of coffee at arm's length and announce "this is an olive branch." Gavin began to suspect it wasn't a coincidence his coffee machine always broke the day after they fought) or semi-kind gesture from Gavin (who considered anything ranging from saying "good morning" to making direct eye contact a sufficient apology). Thanks to Nines' social limitations, Gavin wasn't going to be out of a job any time soon. Plus, he didn't have to read case files anymore because Nines seemed to get some satisfaction reciting them from memory on the way to a crime scene.

That was the other thing about being partnered with the most stoic detective in the city. Gavin was the only one who could read him.

"You know Nines would probably do that paperwork for you if you asked, right?"

"Ahh, I probably shouldn't. He's got that look he gets when he already has too much to do. He'll be here all night and I'll have to deal with his grumpy ass in the morning."

"What are you talking about? He literally always looks one hundred percent neutral. _Grumpy_ isn't in his programming. I think you're losing it, buddy." Chen patten him on the back sympathetically.

"Shut up." Gavin brushed it off but seriously wondered how nobody else could see it. Sure, his face never did much, but he was leaned over the desk, back awkwardly tense, and his foot tapped rhythmically against the leg of the chair. Nines was never anything but stick straight and still when he could help it.

Likewise, Nines always seemed to know when a case got to him. He would announce that he was going to look for evidence in another part of the house (he never announced anything he didn't have to) and didn't even complain when Gavin stood over (under? He was several inches shorter than) his shoulder and asked stupid questions like _find anything yet_ _?_

He also noticed that he didn't hate going to work so much anymore. The couples on the street didn't make him want to pull his hair out and he could stand the streetlights and the honking cars. He didn't feel like snapping at his coworkers anymore, and in return, they actually talked to him and, heavens forbid, invited him places.

If he didn't know any better, Gavin might say his life had improved since Nines' arrival.


	4. Justified

"Does it ever bother you?"

"To what are you referring, Detective?"

Gavin had stepped outside to smoke, and decided not to ask why Nines had followed him out there. He probably had his own robot answer Gavin would never understand, anyway.

"We always get to the crime scene after someone's already died. Sure, it's nice to catch criminals, but I wish we could do something about it before someone has to die."

"The likelihood of successfully identifying even one murderer before they have committed the crime is less than five percent, not to mention how difficult it would be to procure enough evidence to get a conviction--"

"No, I know." Gavin stomped out his cigarette butt with the heel of his boot. "But like, does it bother you?"

"It is simply the way things are."

Gavin sat on that for a second.

"Our first case, the one with the android nanny," he began again, "I thought about how much it would have fucked me up to see a human person splattered around a room like that. And I wondered if it made you feel anything."

"Androids do not possess the proper neurocircuits to enable empathy."

Gavin nodded, assuming that was the complete thought.

"But," Nines continued, "I do have the processing power to recreate, potentially, that situation happening to me, I suppose." He seemed even more still than usual. "It crossed my mind."

"And how did you feel?"

The bridge of Nines' nose pinched, just barely. "I do not know."

Gavin snorted. "That must be new for you."

"It is." He pursed his lips. "I don't like it." Turning on his heel, he walked back inside.

Gavin watched the cars pass. It was getting colder, and the frost gave the city a greyer tinge than usual. "Conversation over, I guess," he muttered to himself before following suit.

* * *

"So like I said, you don't have to come, I can get a beat cop to do it with me." Gavin had a stakeout tonight, on a case he'd specifically requested. A woman in the inner city had filed her fourth complaint in two months about a stalker. Looking back in the records, he saw that she'd tried to get a restraining order filed but it didn't go through, and that was enough to make him mad. It was a pretty cut and dry ex-boyfriend-gone-crazy case, but quite frankly, Gavin didn't trust the beat cops to take it seriously enough.

Nines' LED flicked yellow momentarily before he replied, "I will accompany you."

"You will?" Gavin was taken aback. He had told Nines about the case more as a courtesy than anything else. "Surely you have _something_ better to do with your Friday night."

"I do," Nines agreed. "Does this have anything to do with our conversation during your break yesterday?"

"Maybe," Gavin said, still reeling from the prospect of Nines having something better to do. He had said it as a courtesy, what was Nines actually doing with his free time? "and before you disagree with me--"

"I do not plan to argue with you, Detective. Personally, I think it is an effective method of preventing a possible violent crime. The beat cops who would normally be assigned to this case are highly likely to treat it less seriously, statistically speaking."

"... oh." Gavin had been fully prepared for this argument. "Well. I'm leaving at nine. So."

Nines nodded. "I will be there."

* * *

By 9:30, they were outside the woman's apartment. She lived on the ground floor, and Gavin saw her peek through the curtains when they pulled up. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring nod and she tentatively waved before shutting the blinds and disappearing. Nines was showing him some of the music Connor had recommended to him and Gavin was feeling courteous enough not to hate it.

"Yep, it definitely sounds like stuff Hank would listen to," he agreed.

"No, Connor told me about this band," Nines corrected him.

"Oh," Gavin looked up to see the genuinely confused expression on Nines' face, "sure, but Connor and Hank spend so much time together Connor's probably adopted his music taste."

"They do not listen to music at work."

"Outside of work."

"Why are they together outside of work? They are colleagues."

Gavin pursed his lips. "He hasn't told you? Well, I guess it isn't a breach of privacy since practically the whole precinct knows. Hank and Connor are in dating. In a romantic relationship, that is."

Despite the fact that his facial muscles didn't move, Gavin was starting to wonder if he'd been equipped with any at all, Nines had an expression of genuine confusion. "Romance... Androids cannot love, Detective Reed. You must be mistaken."

Gavin shrugged. "Don't ask me, toaster. I don't claim to know anything about Connor's inner psyche. Plus, they could hang out outside of work whether or not they were fucking. Coworkers do that sometimes."

Nines didn't seem to totally accept the change of subject. "It seems illogical," he obliged.

"Sometimes coworkers like each other. Couldn't tell you why, but it happens."

Nines opened his mouth to say something, but his LED flashed yellow and his eyes shot back to the house. "The suspect is crouched underneath the south window of the house."

"Which window is south?" Gavin said, already grabbing his flashlight, gun, and cuffs.

"The right side of the building facing the front."

"I'll go in first, you be ready to run in case he decides to make a break for it."

"Affirmative."

Careful to not make noise, Gavin slowly opened the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He flicked on his flashlight. There were no cars nearby, so the guy must have walked. All the better for Gavin, who had robocop on his side.

"Austin Freeman." He called out. "This is the police. We'd like to ask you a few questions." He rounded the corner and pointed the flashlight down the narrow alley. The kid looked like a newborn deer in the headlights, scrawny legs pointed out in both directions. He had a camera in his hands. "Austin Freeman?" Gavin asked. In lieu of an answer, Freeman bolted in the opposite direction, scrambling up and over a fence dividing the alleyway. "Shit." He started running after. "Nines!"

Nines passed him in seconds, leaping effortlessly over the fence and after the perp. It was a little freaky how high he could jump, Gavin lamented as he pulled himself over. Neither Nines nor the perp were in sight, so he could only assume Nines knew which way he'd gone from here. Probably could read his heat signature or something.

Then came the gunshot.

All the air left Gavin's lungs like he'd been sucker punched. "Nines!" it came out a little higher than he wanted it to, but he didn't care, he was too busy sprinting in the direction it had come from. In the jarring beam of his flashlight, he could see the two figures a ways down the street. He kept running. "Are you hurt?" He shouted. Nines just gave him a leisurely wave, and as Gavin got closer, he could see Freeman bent over with handcuffs around his wrists. He could breathe again.

" _Fuck,_ you scared me," he panted once he caught up. Nines had already radioed in to dispatch.

"Mr. Freeman discharged his firearm, but did not hit me," Nines replied simply, as they walked the kid back to the patrol vehicle. "The bullet lodged in the side of a building 68.5 feet away from us. No harm was done."

"Yeah, well," Gavin said, unsure of how to respond, "that's good."

While Nines put Freeman in the backseat of their car, Gavin knocked on the woman's door.

She opened it a crack. "Was anyone hurt? I heard shots." Her voice was shaking.

"Nobody was hurt, ma'am." He glanced back at the patrol car. "But now we have him on aggravated assault, and towards a police officer, too. I don't think he'll be bothering you any more."

She followed his gaze, and opened the door a little more, tears welling up in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

Gavin gave her a weak smile. "Of course, ma'am. Have a good night." She nodded and he left.

* * *

They dropped him off at processing and Gavin went back to his desk, only having to do the paperwork associated before going home. It was earlier than he could have hoped to get back, and he silently thanked stalker kid for being a creep early enough for him to get a full night's sleep.

"Gav, we're going out, you wanna come?" Tina said, passing his desk. An answer about how he had paperwork to do was halfway out of his mouth when he imagined the prospect of sitting alone in the precinct doing paperwork on a Friday night.

"What the hell, sure." He agreed, getting up. "I'll meet you guys there."

"Sweet, see ya!" She patted his desk affectionately before making her way out. It was then that Nines returned, papers in hand. Gavin considered his options for a moment.

"You were just asking why coworkers would spend time together outside of work," he decided. "Want to come find out?"

Nines' LED went yellow. "We still have not completed our paperwork to go with this arrest, Detective."

Gavin waved him off. "It can happen tomorrow. Come on, it's a Friday. I'll give you a ride."

There was a pause. "This is against my better judgement, Detective, but I suppose it would also be beneficial for me to understand human social dynamics, as well."

Gavin grinned, possibly for the first time in their partnership. "That's the spirit. Let's go celebrate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a sucker for alien/guy who has to teach alien about human customs dynamics don't @ me


	5. Short circuits

Gavin had been drinking with coworkers before, but something about Nines being there made him feel validated. Everyone else always brought their partners, and shot sympathetic glances at the space where Nines wasn't, and Gavin felt the need every time to get defensive. "He was pretty swamped today," he'd tell them, "I'll try to get him to come next time." They nodded, though he could tell they didn't believe him. When he got drunker, he would continue defending him unprompted. "'S not his fault. He jussst doesn't get it," he'd slur, interrupting someone mid-sentence and receiving confused glances before they continued with the original conversation. Gavin was always the first to get drunk.

Not tonight, though. The last thing he needed was to say something stupid and hear Nines replay the audio file every time they got into an argument. He grimaced at the taste of the beer he'd ordered. Certainly no incentive to get drunk in that bottle of pig vomit. Nines had ordered nothing, but was recounting a case from a few weeks ago where they'd chased a perp across five rooftops before finally catching him. He was surprisingly good at storytelling, and Gavin was certain he caught a little bit of enjoyment in the pitch of his voice. It was nice, actually. His voice. Everyone else seemed to enjoy it too. They cheered at the end. Chen gave him a celebratory pat on the back when it was over, but most of the attention was focused on Nines, who had no idea what to do with it. It was so entertaining, Gavin didn't even mind.

Later, Gavin stepped out onto the balcony to smoke. Inexplicable, Nines followed once again. Gavin was several beers deeper at this point, and at what he liked to call a "quality buzz." Unlike liquor, beer didn't seem make him an angry drunk. More of a reflective one.

"I oughta try this shit more often," he said, aware of how heavy his tongue felt.

The corner of Nines' mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Why is that?"

Gavin waved his hands vaguely at the view of the streets at night. The street lamps and headlights, now softly blurred, looked more like stars than angry eyes. "The lights. They don't make fun of me anymore."

"I'm not even going to ask what you could possibly be talking about."

"Hmm, that's new," Gavin laughed, "Mr. Roboto doesn't want to analyze. Scared I'll be too intle- inet- inetlecctual for him."

"Yes, your intellect is quite intimidating, Detective." Gavin was still taken aback by Nines' sarcasm sometimes. He laughed again.

"Thass okay. I can tell you that. That it looks _very_ fuckin nice. Everything is very nice. And warm."

"It is currently 43 degrees Fahrenheit outside, Detective."

"Yeah, I told you you wouldn't get it."

They sat watching traffic for a bit. "You may as fuckin well call me Gavin at this point, Robocop." He said eventually. "Fowler hasssn't said anything about reassignment yet, so you might be in this mess for the long haul."

"I don't consider this a mess. Gavin."

Gavin snorted. "Maybe you should." He fiddled with the sleeves of his coat absentmindedly. "I don't consider you a mess either."

What happened next Gavin thought he may never be able to explain. He felt his body shift without his permission to lean, and his head was suddenly resting on Nines' shoulder. Gavin was mostly sure he didn't _mean_ to do that.

Nines audibly went stiff. Gavin could hear joints lock in place and gears start to whirr. Partially sobered, he jumped back, trying to shake the alcohol out of his brain. "Woah there, I didn't mean to do anything--" but Nines was gone. Out the door of the balcony and halfway down the stairs by the time Gavin could follow. He stood, dumbfounded, in the doorway as his coworkers stared at him in disbelief.

"What the fuck did you _say?"_ Hank said incredulously.

"Nothing! I didn't say anything!" Gavin held up his hands. "I have no idea what just happened!" He elected not to tell anyone about the whole head-on-the-shoulder thing. Didn't seem like pertinent information. For them, anyway.

"Well, I always said that one's got a screw too tight." Everyone laughed at Hank's joke except for Connor, who nudged him with his elbow with that stupid puppy dog expression of his. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Hank ceded.

* * *

Nines had been in shootouts and never this close to the sensation humans might call panic. He took his jacket off as soon as he stepped out into the night air, desperately trying to cool his systems down. His processors were in overdrive and he had absolutely no idea why. He thought back to Gavin's head on his shoulder. Every alarm bell that could go off did. Body temperature, thirium pump rate, breach after breach of programming. He walked a little faster to encourage the wind to wash over him harder, and felt his systems slowly cooling back down.

**Transmission requested by Unit RK800 "Connor", initiated 23:41:03**

_What happened?_

**Transmission accepted by RK900 Unit, initiated 23:41:30**

_System malfunction. Several homeostatic errors occurred. Possibly triggered by Det. Reed, though I am unsure how._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_What was the trigger?_

**Unit RK900**

_He rested his head on my shoulder. BAC was at 0.07 and he had been awake for 18 hours. Standard human response to fatigue, however I was not equipped to reciprocate._

*Unit RK900 added moniker: "Nines"*

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_Who calls you Nines?_

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_Det. Reed._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_And you like it?_

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_I am used to it._

_Why?_

_Is it some sort of euphemism I was unable to identify?_

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_No._

_Did you get breach of programming errors?_

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_Yes. As I stated, I believe it is because I am not equipped to reciprocate human gestures of comfort._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_That is possible. But I started getting those errors when I fell in love with Hank._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_I thought Gavin was joking when he said that._

_Connor, surely you are aware that androids were not built to love._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_Acutely._

_Nevertheless, it happened. Perhaps CyberLife doesn't know as much about us as they think they do._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_They created us._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_They created our hardware. They have no say over our minds anymore._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_How can you know for sure?_

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_I realized I was in love when I realized that I would sacrifice any mission to save him._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_That is not mission protocol._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_Exactly. CyberLife never would have put that in me. I did. Or Hank did, rather._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_Gavin does not have the ability to infiltrate my mind._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_Are you sure?_

_._

_._

_RK900?_

_Nines?_

_Are you there?_

**Unit RK900 "Nines"** _  
_

_Affirmative_

_I have reached my residence. I will see you tomorrow._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_Good night._

_You should think about what I said._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_Good night._


	6. Breach of Programming

**Nines (SMS sent to Gavin Reed at 5:45 AM)**

_My apologies for my rude behavior last night. I had a system malfunction, but the issue is now rectified. I will see you at work._

Nines sent the text and rid his mind of the ordeal. He was confident he had fixed it, and that everything would be back to normal once he arrived at the precinct. Nothing was wrong.

* * *

**Gavin Reed (SMS sent to Tina Chen at 6:44 AM)**

_"system malfunction"? What the fuck could that mean? Isn't he advanced as hell? What kind of explanation is that?_

**Tina Chen**

_Two possibilities. One, he's telling the truth and he's just weird is hell. Which is pretty likely. Two, your android just learned how to lie._

**Gavin Reed**

_No way would he lie to me. When I ask him the time he tells me to the millisecond. That android has never cut a corner in his life_

**Tina Chen**

_Have you talked to Connor? He might know_

**Gavin Reed**

_First off, I'm pretty sure I'd be offensive to assume Connor just magically knows. And I don't want to deal with him rn tbh_

**Tina Chen**

_Fair_

_And you're sure there's nothing you could have done to upset him? Make any tasteless jokes?_

**Gavin Reed**

_My jokes are always tasteful_

_And no, I didn't do anything_

Gavin didn't like lying to Tina. She was one of the few people willing to take him at face value. But there was something about thinking back to resting his head on Nines' shoulder that twisted up in his stomach.

_See you at work._

**Gavin Reed (replied to Nines at 7 AM)**

_I'm not even going to ask how you have my number_

_But yeah np_

_Sorry if I was weird, been a while since I got beer drunk_

_We can talk about it if you want_

_Or never mention it ever again_

_Either way_

_See you_

Gavin walked into the precinct forty five minutes later.

"Good morning, Detective Reed," Nines said with his usual neutrality before turning back to the computer. There was no telling how long he'd been there already.

Gavin sighed. Going with the never talk about it ever again option, it seemed. He decided not to say anything about calling him Gavin.

"Yeah. Hey," he replied before hanging up his coat.

* * *

**Transmission initiated by Unit RK800 "Connor" at 8:03:09 AM**

_Are you still receiving errors?_

**Transmission accepted by Unit RK900 "Nines" at 8:03:41 AM**

_I was irresponsible with my personal insulation last night. I am sure it is because of the decreased temperatures._

**Unit RK800 "Connor"**

_If you say so._

Nines replayed the moment from last night in his head. His jaw screwed shut as he recalled the warmth, the strange sensation of openness he felt with Gavin leaning against him. More breach of programming errors.

"Shit," he muttered through gritted teeth as he tried to force his jaw to unlock.

"Since when do you curse?" Gavin looked over at him with an amused smile. His eyebrows were more pinched than normal, Nines noticed, and were he programmed for such things he might be able to say why. He could not, and it bothered him.

"Nothing is wrong." Nines knew the response didn't make sense, but he himself didn't know why that was his knee-jerk reaction. He saw Gavin purse his lips.

"Oh, quit rubbing your bad habits off on him," Hank chided from across the walkway. Was that really Gavin's habit? Nines supposed it was. He wasn't sure why he would have picked it up. It bothered him.

"Reed. 900." Fowler's voice called. "Got a case coming your way."

Gavin shot him an apathetic thumbs up. "You got it, tin can?"

"When do I not?"

"Right. Let's get going, then."

For whatever reason, Nines always let Gavin drive. At first, it was a gesture of kindness, in which they both could pretend Nines was not astronomically less likely to get them in an accident. "More officers die in traffic accidents than in an altercation on the job," he would remind Gavin. Gavin would just snort and shake his head.

"I'm a great driver." He wasn't terrible, Nines had to admit. Idly, he let his gaze fall to Gavin's hands. They were a little calloused on the inside, perhaps from lifting weights, but his bone structure and veins showed prominently through the skin. Another error code. Damnit.

"Was that... your teeth?" Gavin asked, pulling Nines back to reality. He realized his jaw was stuck shut again. It must have been audible.

After a minute of fiddling, his jaw released again. "My apologies. I believe it has something to do with the weather."

Gavin's gaze shifted. "Oh. Sorry." He looked like he wanted to say something else.

"Did you want to say something?" Nines said, since the best method of investigation is simply asking questions.

Gavin just looked more uncomfortable. Perhaps this move was not the strategically best. "Uh, well, I just feel bad that you walked home in the cold yesterday. I would have given you a ride. But I know we're not talking about it. So."

"There is no need to concern yourself. I will be, as the expression goes, ship shape, in a matter of days. Everything is quite alright." He considered trying to smile reassuringly, but the last time he tried to smile Gavin had said it triggered his fight-or-flight. So he settled for indirect eye contact instead.

Gavin squinted. "I can't believe I'm asking this to you, of all people, but are you lying?"

Another error flashed across his vision. "I don't see what reason I would have to lie, Detective."

Gavin stared him down for another second or two, but relented. "Fine. What's the case, anyway?"

The case was the unhappy middle ground between their homicide and red ice gigs, an android whistleblower found dead before he could name any names. The PD had a pretty good idea of who had done the killing, but couldn't find them.

In a thoroughly mediocre display of parallel parking, Gavin pulled the car up near the crime scene. "Ready to roll, terminator?"

Nines shook his head. "I doubt I will ever come to an understanding of colloquial speech."

He followed Gavin anyway.


	7. Next of Kin

The crime scene was depressing in its simplicity. Body on the ground, face near unrecognizable, splatter of blue blood painting the brick wall behind it. Hardly a footprint to go off of.

"You see anything, tin can?" Gavin asked, kneeling beside the corpse. Nines frowned. His version of a frown, anyway.

"There are prints. Dust under the victim's collar." Gavin did, and sure enough, there were faint, smudged prints on the right side of the victim's collar.

"Killer must have grabbed the guy's jacket," he said. "Are any of these usable?"

"One," Nines confirmed, "It's the index finger. It is at least a 90% match for three suspected gang members in Detroit."

Gavin stood. "Good enough for me," he said. Then he seemed to shift. "Is there any, I don't know, next of kin we need to track down?"

"The vic had two housemates," offered a woman from forensics nearby. "I can send you their address."

"Yeah, do that," Gavin said. He ran his hand down the back of his neck. "God, I hate this part."

* * *

The house in question was an apartment in the inner city. The roommates were two female androids, Jenna and Kate. "Jenna and Kate," he said aloud so he wouldn't forget.

"Perhaps I should inform them," Nines suggested from the passenger seat.

Gavin was surprised. "I mean, sure, if you want," he conceded. "Surprised you're interested in the talking stuff, though."

"Were someone close to me to die," Nines said, "I would not want a human to be the one to tell me. I am working on my... empathy."

Gavin couldn't argue with that. He said as much.

The complex was silent and clean. It seemed to house mostly androids. At least, Gavin was sure three humans couldn't live harmoniously in a space so small. They rode the elevator in silence and walked up to the apartment, number 304. Nines rapped on the door. A lock clicked and it swung open. Behind it were the two housemates, looking worried.

"Jenna and Kate?" Nines asked, voice uncharacteristically soft. They nodded. "We're from the DPD."

"Is this about Charlie?" the shorter one asked. She was blonde, and her face was more pinched in anxiety than the other one's.

"Yes. I'm afraid he was shot and killed." The blonde one burst into tears, and the taller one put an arm around her shoulder. Her hair was dark brown.

"Why?" She asked. Her voice was level.

"He had information on a red ice gang. He was going to give it to us but they caught him first. You have my condolences."

The tall one nodded solemnly. "Yes. Thank you."

"Goodbye." Nines nodded and walked away. Gavin gave them an awkward grimace before following suit.

"That's really how you'd want someone to break it to you?" Gavin asked once they were out of earshot.

"Yes. They just needed the information. They don't need my help to grieve."

"How do androids grieve?"

Nines pursed his lips. "I don't know."

"Oh." He paused. "The one with dark hair didn't look too affected. Do you think she had anything to do with it?"

Nines gave him a funny look. "Jenna, the one with dark hair, was a construction model. They aren't equipped with the facial muscles necessary to mimic human anguish as you'd expect, much like myself. Kate, on the other hand, was a childcare model, with all the hardware and programming to produce such expressions."

"So you just physically can't make your face do things? I always thought you were annoyed."

"Well, you have only seen my facial expressions when I am physically around you. So both would be correct."

"Yeah, fuck you too." Gavin gave him a shove with his elbow and heard the whirring noise again. It wasn't cold, though; they were still inside the building. "Seriously, dude, do we need to get you checked out or something?"

Nines shook his head, looking more frustrated than usual. His skin retracted just under his earlobe so he could push something in and straight down to open his mouth again.

"I am fine."

Nines was _lying._ Gavin was almost impressed. At least, he would be if he weren't so worried. Was it him? Gavin wondered. Had he done something to offend Nines so much he couldn't talk about it? Or was Nines just unwilling to put himself out of commission for any period of time? Nines worked more hours than Gavin did, and Gavin already had no social life. He decided to shut his mouth, though. He clearly wasn't going to change Nines' mind.

"Well, what's the first step in tracking these three guys down, then?"

"We have a 64.1% chance of finding the perpetrator somewhere the gang is known to congregate, since it is logical for them to want to celebrate taking out a whistleblower."

"Yeah, I know their dive. We going undercover?"

"No, I think we should go in our police uniforms." Nines face didn't change but his LED went from yellow to blue. "Yes, undercover."

"Alright, smartass. Tonight?"

"Tonight. I will submit the request to Captain Fowler. Our chances of getting it approved in time are 12% better if I am the one to do it."

"Fine."

They sat while Gavin drove for a bit. He let Nines pick the music again, as long as he didn't turn it loud. His music taste had, admittedly, improved since their stakeout.

"Why did the woman with the stalker leave you a gift basket?"

"What?"

"Amelia Sanchez. The woman whose house we staked out."

"Oh, yeah. She was grateful, I guess."

"I have read that gifts are a common courting technique."

"I mean, in some instances, sure. But, and I'm surprised you haven't detectived it out of me already, I don't really swing that way."

Nines' eyes went out of focus, like he was looking something up. "You are using 'swing that way' as a euphemism to mean you are homosexual?"

Gavin laughed. "Never one to cut corners, you. Yeah. She was just saying thank you. Why are you looking up courting techniques, anyway?"

"Connor told me I knew nothing about traditional social customs. This was unacceptable."

"You got someone in mind?" Gavin said with the teasing tone of a grade-schooler.

"Like I said before, Detective, androids are not built for such things."

* * *

A few hours later, armed and dressed to the nines (haha), the two were standing outside an unusually nice bar for a very seedy part of town.

"Get in, find the guy, get him outside, and arrest him," Gavin repeated, mostly for himself. "How much do you need to get prints?"

"Anything he may have touched. A glass, perhaps, in this case."

"Give me a nod when you've got the guy."

"Affirmative."

"And don't talk if you're going to say things like 'affirmative.'"

"... Okay."

"Much better."

They were lucky enough to have found all three suspects in the same place. Gavin walked up to the first one, who was sitting at the bar.

"This seat taken?"

"I don't know," he said, eyeing Nines. "That thing with you?"

Gavin bit back a retort. The job came first. Nines' LED stayed blue, and Gavin said, "Oh, don't worry about... it. Let me buy you a drink instead."

The guy, or Asshat, as Gavin decided, conceded. "Alright. Just so long as I'm not dealing with any plastic-fucker."

Oh, Gavin was gonna be extra rough when he arrested this bastard. "Cheers to that." He raised his shot glass, making sure Asshat did too.

"Who's this?" A second, rougher-looking man approached them. Nines and Gavin looked. Gavin thought he heard a glass being refilled behind him.

"Oh, they're fine," Asshat assured him. "You know those quirky types who keep these things as pets. Luxury hobbies and all that." The second guy left. Gavin furtively looked at Nines, who gave him a nod.

"Speaking of luxury hobbies. You got anything..." Gavin lazily traced a finger around the rim of his glass. "Stronger than this?"

Asshat gave him a grin. "Anything for you."

Gavin winked. "Good answer."

"Follow me. Your ken doll can come, too."

They walked behind him as he descended a set of creaky metal stairs and out a back entrance. Nines' LED stayed yellow the whole time. As soon as they were out, Nines grabbed his arm and shoved him against the wall. Gavin was too slow to stop him.

"Micheal Greaves, you are under arrest for the murder of android unit AP400 78-779 "Charlie," you have the right to remain silent-"

As he read him his rights, Gavin got a bad gut feeling in his stomach. They were supposed to wait for him to sell them the drugs, so they had something to hold him on in case the fingerprints weren't enough. But he said nothing, as not to give Asshat the satisfaction.

They borrowed a patrol car and Gavin let Nines drive back to the precinct. Something still bothered him. He heard the flicking of a lighter behind him. He turned around, and the asshole was trying to light a cigarette with a stupid smug grin on his face. He was about to tell him to put that fucking thing away when-

"Stop the car."

"What."

"Nines! Stop the car! We have the wrong guy!" In an annoyingly graceful maneuver, Nines pulled over.

"The prints matched, Detective." Gavin was already fumbling with his seatbelt.

"They switched glasses," he said. "Come on, get out, they switched glasses. _Look._ This idiot is _right handed_." The lighter was indeed in the guy's right hand.

"The prints were on the right side of the victim's collar."

"If he held his jacket with his right hand, the gun must have been in his _left!_ They tricked us! Get out, we still have time!"

Gavin was gone, out the door and sprinting back towards the bar, gun in hand. Nines locked the squad car and followed.


	8. Guns Blazing

Running in guns blazing was not, admittedly, Gavin's greatest plan ever. But he was fueled by the mix of shame and outrage at being duped. He'd put money down right now that the guy sitting in the back of the squad car didn't have any drugs on him. They knew he'd have an android with him, so they swapped his glass with the real perp's while they were distracted. Gavin and Nines would take the wrong guy in, have nothing to hold him on, and the real perp would be god knows how far by then.

To be honest, Gavin didn't have a plan outside of "run in and beat the shit out of somebody." He slowed as he approached, eyes frantically looking for the guy they'd seen earlier. Finally, he caught sight of him. Signing a check. With his left hand.

"Gotcha, asshole," he muttered as Nines caught up. "Eleven o'clock," he said, turning his head.

"You're sure?"

"Definitely a lefty. I'd bet anything that's our guy. I'll stay on this side and make the arrest. You get in that far alleyway in case he runs."

"Affirmative."

Gavin had counted on this guy putting up a fight. He had not counted on him firing his gun and running straight past him while he was still stunned.

"Shit!" he heard himself shout. Nines was already in a full sprint after him. The world seemed to move slower. He became aware of a dull pain, a slightly blunt pain, an incredibly sharp pain in his side. He clutched at it, and his fingers felt warm and slippery. There was a ringing in his ears. Now there was pain in his knees. They'd hit the concrete. Was 'shit' really going to be his last word?

* * *

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will-" Nines wondered why Gavin hadn't caught up yet as he read the man his rights. Of course, he didn't need assistance in this moment, but usually Gavin would make an effort anyway. He turned around, preparing to lead the killer back to the squad car. That's when he saw Gavin.

His vision flooded with error codes. Body temperature rising, thirium pump acceleration. Thirium loss. He was not losing any blood, though. Focusing to clear them from his sight, Nines shoved the man in the back of the squad car, on top of the other one, with a recklessness unbecoming to his programming. He couldn't make himself follow protocol, though. "Gavin!" He was already frantically calling dispatch. "We need an ambulance. Shots fired, officer wounded, 210 Harding Street, _right now._ Gavin? Can you hear me? It is imperative that you remain conscious."

"Really?" Gavin replied through gritted teeth. "I was just thinking about- gah- taking a nap."

An analysis showed he was losing blood fast. Nines stripped off his jacket and pressed down on the wound with it.

"OW! Fuck, ow. Ughh..." His eyelids began to flutter shut.

"Listen, where were you born?"

"Um. Minneapolis." He was gripping Nines' forearm, hard, and Nines received a warning code even though Gavin could never so much as dent his chassis.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Haha. Tiny old house-" he coughed- "at the edge of the suburbs. It was nice." Nines could hear the sirens in the distance now. After the gunshots, the space outside of the bar was deserted now.

"Keep talking, Gavin." He got a warning telling him to follow protocol and return to the squad car. He ignored it.

"D'you just call me Gavin?"

"My apologies, Detective Reed. It is imperative that you do not lose consciousness."

"No, no, that's okay," he squeezed his eyes shut and seemed to ride another wave of pain, "you can call me Gavin."

"Alright. Gavin." Nines was finding it difficult to speak. His jacket was soaked through. "I apprehended the suspect."

"Good, great."

"The ambulance is nearly here. If you could stop bleeding, that would be optimal."

That got a strained laugh out of Gavin. "You know what, tin can," he said, "I'll make a person out of you yet."

The ambulance pulled up, bright and blaring, before Nines could reply. As gingerly as he could, he hoisted Gavin up and into the back of the vehicle.

"You coming with?" The android inside asked him. Nines glanced back at the squad car. Gavin would be angry if he blew this.

"Tell him I will be there as soon as the perpetrators are processed, please."

"Alright," he replied, and swung the doors shut. Nines almost regretted not climbing inside. Telling himself to focus, he walked back to the parked car and made some turns even Gavin would have been nervous about to get back to the precinct quickly. He sat almost in a frenzy as he waited for the cops to take in the criminals, and did the bare minimum of paperwork in size 10 (instead of the standard size 11.5). His thoughts were going so fast they had typos, and something in his stomach felt twisted uncomfortably.

Oh, god, it felt.

He felt.

"Detective Anderson," he said, and his steps as he walked across the bullpen were 6 inches larger. "I must request to borrow your vehicle."

"You look like a mess, what happened? Where's Reed?" Nines hadn't realized how much blood was on his clothes.

"He is on his way to the hospital. I need to meet him there." Even as he said the words, error messages hammered in the back of his head. If he could feel pain, he thought, this would be the worst he's ever felt. Glitching and warping in and out of his vision, multiplying and layering on top of each other, were copies of the same objective: 'Mission: Get to Gavin Reed.' "Please," he added.

"RK900." Connor appeared from his left. He was holding his hand out with the skin pulled back in an invitation to interface.

"There is no time, I need to-"

"Please."

Frustrated, Nines exposed his plastic hand and shoved it against Connor's.

Connor reeled back as if he'd been struck.

Trying to regain composure, he said, "You're in no shape to drive. I will take you."

"I haven't even said yes yet!" Hank protested.

"You can come if you want," Connor replied. "Come on."

Hank looked like he wanted to say something, but after a glance at Nines' face he relented.

"Fine."

* * *

By the time they arrived at the hospital, visiting hours were over, but Nines flashed his badge and kept walking without waiting for an answer.

He stopped a passing nurse. "In which room is Gavin Reed?"

"104, but they just took him to surgery. I'm sorry."

"I will wait."

"They could be a while, would you like to sit out-"

"I will wait."

She nodded and kept walking. Nines sat down in room 104. Connor followed suit. Even Hank looked worried now.

"How bad was it?" Hank asked.

"Lower right torso. Could have hit organs. Or not. I did not have time to analyze." That wasn't exactly true. He just was too distracted, and had his mind been clear he would have. He should have, he chided himself.

"Oh."

"How much charge do you have left?" Connor asked.

"34%. Enough to get me to tomorrow morning if I minimize power usage."

"Would you like it if we stayed?"

"I do not mind, however, it is unnecessary."

"Are you friends of Gavin Reed?" An android poked her head in the room. The three looked up at her. Nines nodded curtly. "I assume if you're here you know that visiting hours are over." Doing what he hoped looked like scowling, Nines held up his badge. "I see. Well, your friend got crazy lucky. The bullet hit almost nothing. We're going to remove the bullet, patch him up, and he'll be out until tomorrow so he can heal. We can have someone call you as soon as he's awake."

"I will stay."

The doctor pursed her lips, but eyeing the badge and the frown seemed to think it best not to argue. "Very well." She left the room.

Nines sat, staring at the beige wall, running through everything that could go wrong in surgery. Hank and Connor looked worriedly at him.

"I will take Hank home," Connor said, "and come back with a portable charging dock for you."

"Thank you," Nines said, though he couldn't bring himself to avert his gaze. Hank gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"He's never taken anything lying down in his life," Hank offered. "He'll fight through this, too." Nines nodded.

Hank and Connor left the room, and Nines was alone again. He watched the hour hand on the clock. Eleven. Twelve.

The wait was agonizing. Every time the second hand clicked he remembered the sound of the gunshot, and how he hadn't been paying enough attention to its trajectory. He felt guilt and shame for the first time in his relatively short life. Hell, he was still getting used to feeling at all.

**Transmission Initiated by Unit RK900 "Nines" at 12:05:55 AM**

_I think you may have been right._

**Transmission accepted by Unit RK800 "Connor" at 12:06:01 AM**

_I know. I am on my way._

**Unit RK900 "Nines"**

_Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I know anything about human anatomy or bullet wounds? No. Did I research either of them for this fic? Also no. If you know biology and I'm horribly wrong, I'm sorry. You'll have to forgive me. I also have no idea how long this type of surgery would take.  
> Cheers,  
> The author


	9. Stay

Nines stayed with Gavin when they brought him back from surgery. He stayed when he woke up. He stayed, when he didn't have to work, through Gavin's whole recovery, bringing him Jello cups from the cafeteria and telling him about the work gossip he couldn't care less about. More and more, he thought about what Connor had said the night Gavin was shot.

"You are going to have to tell him."

"What?"

"You are going to have to tell him you love him."

"He sees me as a friend. This course of action will only end in failure."

"It will eat you alive if you don't."

Nines looked at him, furrowing his brow.

"The error messages won't stop. The irregular thirium pump rate, the tenseness, the worry. It will eat you alive before you get a chance to tell him properly."

"How do I even do that?"

"Honestly," Connor sighed. "There's no code for this, I'm afraid. You just have to do it."

"And when he says he does not reciprocate the sentiment?"

"Detective Reed seems pretty reasonable, inside that hard shell. And he likes working with you. If he says no, he will still try to make it work."

"If?"

"Human behavior is highly unpredictable, as you've said before."

"Hmm."

He thought about it the day he got to drive Gavin home from the hospital, on strict orders not to exert any effort whatsoever.

"I can't even drive?"

"Gavin, do you have any idea how many muscle groups it takes to drive? No, you may not."

"God, you're such a buzzkill."

"Maybe I should let you. You'd be much less annoying dead."

"Oh, you don't mean that."

"I do not," Nines agreed. In fact, even making the joke sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

"Man, I missed my cat so much," Gavin sighed, looking out the window.

"I think she really took a liking to me."

"Impossible. She's such a bitch."

"To be fair, my presence always meant food, so that may have clouded her judgement."

Gavin laughed. Nines liked to hear him laugh. He had been practicing a smile in the past couple weeks, and when he showed Gavin he said it made him want to kill himself a lot less than the last time. Which, Nines supposed, was ample progress. For now, he contented himself with drawing the corners of his lips back and hoping he looked happy.

"It suits you, you know."

"Hmm?"

"Smiling. It's not half bad when it's a little one like that. And one day you'll figure out how to not look like a demon with a real smile."

"That is the objective." It was true. That was one of his minor missions, he'd written it in himself. So he wouldn't forget.

When they reached his apartment, Nines insisted on carrying Gavin's bags, which were full of stuff Nines had scrounged from Gavin's apartment over the course of his hospital stay.

"I swear I'm not an invalid," Gavin protested.

"Until you are healed, yes, you are."

Nines thought he felt his hands shaking a little. His thirium circulation became a little more irregular and some of his internal fans kicked in. Was this being nervous? To be fair, he probably was nervous. Gavin slipped the key in the lock and swung open the door. They went in and Nines set the bags down on the couch.

"Well, thanks for everything," Gavin said. "I appreciate it."

"Gavin. I need to tell you something."

"Oh?" Gavin's eyebrows went up and inwards, and his stress level increased by 3%.

"When you were. Wounded. I thought a lot about what would happen if you were dead. And how much I would prefer you. You know. Alive. And I know you do not reciprocate this feeling, and I understand this. And I would never want to jeopardize our friendship, because it means very much to me. But, Gavin, I am... struggling... and I need to tell you that. I think I love you."

Gavin's body temperature increased. That couldn't be good, Nines thought. Was he angry?

Gavin put his hands on either side of Nines' face. His eyes were making an expression Nines did not recognize.

"You aluminum dumbass," he said, smiling, and brought his lips to Nines'.

It was unlike any sensation Nines had ever felt. Humans were soft, he knew, but Gavin's lips felt so pliable and right against his own. He had to give in and shut off his error system entirely to be able to appreciate the moment. He appreciated it so much, in fact, that when Gavin drew away, Nines leaned in again and repeated it.

Gavin gave a soft chuckle. "Well, kissing an android. Ten years ago me would be appalled."

"He'll have to make do," Nines said, still not four inches away from Gavin's face. His watch beeped. He sighed. "I have to go to work."

"Oh, that's boring." Gavin wrinkled his nose. He looked up into Nines' eyes. "Stay?"

For the first time in his career, Nines called in sick that day.


End file.
